


An Assortment of Han and Leia (Again)

by madame_alexandra



Series: Assortment Anthologies [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Multi, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madame_alexandra/pseuds/madame_alexandra
Summary: An anthology of short Han/Leia ficlets (again!). Stories are unrelated to one another, stories are unrelated to previously published stories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Note - if you follow my blog on Tumblr, these are nothing new. I did a (another) fic prompt meme, and I chose some to publish on other sites as well. The original quote that prompted the ficlet will be included at the beginning of each short story (in some cases, very short story).

**Prompt: "I believe you dropped this."**

* * *

 

Laundry.

It was a horrible word. 

Not only because, prior to the destruction of Alderaan, the loss of her family, and the obliteration of life as she knew it, Leia had no working concept of the technical aspects of laundry (she had been preciously accustomed to clean clothing just appearing in her closets) – but also because it was such a monotonous, time-consuming, and somehow exhausting thing to do. 

The Rebellion apparatus had no money to allow each individual an autovalet in their quarters, though Leia was sure she’d have been allotted one if she’d requested it – just as she was sure she’d have been allotted luxurious quarters if she’d fought for it. She, conspicuously, had not – and thus she was relegated to doing her laundry the same as everyone else on base: i.e., she took it down to the large room full of recycling units. 

What was troublesome was – she had first realized it was on her to do the laundry when she opened her drawers and found that everything was dirty – and in that moment, she felt more spoiled and pampered than she ever had in her life. 

As she’d struggled with the awfully humbling realization that she was going to have to ask someone to teach her to do laundry, she’d also come to the conclusion that she’d have to wear the same clothes twice, as they were the least dirty - 

Which _of course_ , prompted a certain _Han Solo t_ o make approximately ten thousand suggestive jokes about why she was wearing the same clothes, including one very loud comment, in a room full of people, that she was welcome to borrow something of his if she needed to. 

He was good for something, at least: he inspired her to learn how to do laundry, and damn fast, too – 

So she got the hang of it, though she always dreaded dragging all of her stuff down the halls of the base to the laundry unit, hoping no one was there – because they always tripped over themselves trying to give her their unit or bow to her and it just made her feel alone and uncomfortable – 

and laundry, laundry was a terrible word, because laundry was how she found herself struggling with the most embarrassing moment of her life one evening, after she’d enjoyed a – suspiciously – nice dinner with Han, Luke, and Chewbacca aboard the _Falcon –_

Han behaved himself the whole time, in a frighteningly polite way, so that Leia was still hanging around, listening to him talk, long after Luke had awkwardly left – she could tell he’d expected her to leave when he did, and when she didn’t, she didn’t miss the slightly hostile look he shot Han. 

Conversation lulled, and finally, Han cleared his throat, and winked at her.

“I have something for you,” he said.

Leia sat up, raising her brows.

“Oh?” she asked. 

He’d just treated her and Luke to a fresh-food dinner; she didn’t think she needed more than that right now – 

“Yep,” Han said brightly. “Been tryin’ to give it to you since last week, but you been avoidin’ me.”

Leia gave him a dark look.

“You annoyed me last week.”

Han said nothing. He leaned back, reached into his pocket, and pulled something out, holding it up and dangling it by his index finger over the table – handing it to her. 

Leia blinked for a moment, and then gave him a grim, annoyed look. She closed her eyes. 

“Please tell me you are not dangling a pair of women’s panties at me,” she growled stiffly, inching away from him, her eyes still closed. 

Han snorted. 

“Well, Princess – “

“I do not think the woman you snatched those from would appreciate you bragging to me – or whatever – this – is – “

“S’not bragging,” he said calmly.

“Then what – !”

“Hey, will you open your eyes, Your Worship?” he drawled.

She peeked one open, and he shook his hand at her, arching a brow. 

“Look a little closer,” he coaxed.

Leia didn’t move, so he rolled his eyes, leaned forward and bent down the light pink material of the waistband – and Leia leaned back sharply, her eyes widening immediately – because she saw a flash of gold embroidery – and – 

“Remember when I was chasin’ you down the hallway after you did laundry last week?”

Leia said nothing. 

Han swung his hand lazily.

“I believe you dropped this.”

Leia said nothing – again.

He was showing her the back of the panties – which read, in gold lettering, _L-O-A –_ her initials – and she was vividly remembering him shouting after her in the hallway last week as she furiously ignored him, because she’d been sure he was going to make fun of her for doing laundry or something so .. not aristocratic. 

Han arched his brows curiously.

“What’s the ‘a’ stand for?”

Leia kept giving him her wide-eyed, horrified look – this was – this was Han Solo – and he was just – brazenly slipping his dirty, smuggler fingerprints all over her – 

She shut herself down, drawing a cool, unshakeable expression over her face, and leaned forward, snatching the slip of pink fabric from him - he’d had them in his pocket, throughout dinner? The nerve – 

He grinned at her a little. 

“Hey, I picked ‘em up before anyone else could see ‘em and, I dunno, tack ‘em up in a locker room,” he offered sincerely.

Leia tried to glare at him, but only blushed, furiously. He arched his brows.

“So, you gonna tell me what the ‘a’ is for?” he prompted again. 

She spent a full, silent minute trying to come up with a snippy response, because telling him her middle name when he’d just been holding her panties felt as intimate as asking him to marry her. 

She thought about it a long time, and then said, deadpan:

“Ass.” 

Han arched his brows, taken aback. He cocked his head to the side. 

“ _What_?” he demanded. 

She decided not to explain to him the finer nuances of initials – that L-O-A was _Leia Amidala Organa_ , in proper monogrammed form – she said:

“L-O-A - Leia Organa’s Ass.” 

Han just stared at her. 

After a moment, he put his hand over his mouth, and took a deep breath, as if he’d decided to take the bait.

“And – _why?_ ” he asked slowly. 

Leia was quick with her response – 

“So that it is labelled and easy to find when I tell people to kiss it.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: "Prepare to be amazed."**

* * *

 

 

Another year, another Rogue Squadron birthday bash, another night Leia was rolling her eyes as she basically poured her husband into bed, sitting on the edge next to him and pulling his boots off as she responded to all his drunken quips with vague platitudes and gentle placating. 

Why those pilots had to celebrate all of their birthdays at once – well, she supposed it was so they weren’t constantly asking for leave time to accommodate one or the other – but kriff, when they all banded together in one large, explosive celebration, it was like they made up for any and all drinking they may have missed out on throughout the year – 

Han twitched his foot at her as she pulled his sock off and dropped it to the floor. He wiggled his toes and lifted his head, looking at her blearily.

“Where are we?” he asked contently.

“We’re at home,” Leia answered smoothly. 

Han looked impressed. 

“I got us home?”

Leia grinned, and then stifled it.

“Yes, you did, all by yourself,” she said, moving to his other boot. “You walked and everything.” 

Han frowned at her. He dropped his head back.

“You’re lying,” he accused.

“Yes,” she agreed. “You fell asleep in the back of Wedge’s girlfriend’s speeder.” 

Han grumbled something. Leia made a mental note to to make sure she got Han’s leather jacket back from Selmaya later – she’d yanked it off Han because she hadn’t wanted him to get too hot. 

Leia pulled his other sock off and then crawled up on the bed, inching up to his waist and unbuckling his belt. 

“Hey,” he drawled suggestively. “Whoa. You tryin’ to get my clothes off, Princess?” 

Leia rolled her eyes. 

“Every time you get drunk, this comes as a surprise to you,” she murmured wryly. “As if you go into some mental place where you forget we’ve been together for years.”

“Years?”

“We’re married.”

“Really?”

“Han,” she laughed.

“’M kidding, I know that,” he slurred. 

She loosened the belt, untucked his shirt, and frowned.

“You have to help a little, flyboy.” 

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled, and sat up, fumbling with the shirt. 

Leia sat back and watched the show, arching a brow in affectionate amusement as he grumbled to himself and managed to finally – five minutes later – undress. 

He laid back and went for his trousers, and Leia laid down next to him, watching, her head propped on her palm. 

He turned to her, jerkily kicking his trousers off his feet, and onto the floor. 

“Hey,” he whispered conspiratorially. He reached over and ran his hand over her hip, pulling the material of the silky blouse she was wearing into a knot in his hand. He closed his eyes. “I’m going to rock your world, Your Worship,” he drawled.

Leia laughed, and pushed his hair back. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” she agreed, though he was clearly seconds from falling asleep. 

He sensed her lack of faith in him, and frowned, glaring – she sensed he was glaring, even though his eyes were closed. 

“I’m serious, Leia,” he growled. “Prepare to be amazed.”

He slid his hand off of her – and then he turned his head slightly, and took a deep breath, remaining still for the next few minutes. Leia stared at him, patiently waiting, until he shifted, opened one eye, and grinned at her smugly. 

“See?” he gloated.

Leia opened her mouth to tell him he had done absolutely nothing, and then she sighed, and tilted her head, smiling at him. She changed her mind – 

“Mm _hmm_ ,” she agreed, feigning a breathy sigh. “This is the best sex of my life.” 

“Told you,” Han grumbled, closing his eyes, and falling asleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt: "How can anyone not be afraid of love?"**

* * *

 

It seemed selfish to take a break from the endless barrage of missions, assignments, and battles – but everything Leia did these days seemed to be viewed as selfish; each time she took a moment to look into some intelligence concerning Boba Fett’s whereabouts, or spent a split second communicating with Chewbacca – 

Luke was one of the only people who didn’t seem to begrudge her the downtime, eager as he was to find Han, as well, and she was glad he’d convinced her to take a day of leave and come with him to a bazaar that was located on the peaceful side of a resort planet – somewhere no one would expect two of the Empire’s most wanted to be – 

and now she sat with him on a riverbank, leather leggins covered in grass and mud, hair pulling loose from a sort of carefree frolic in the river, and she skipped rocks while Luke played with his Jedi powers, occasionally snacking on baked pear crisps she’d bought from a vendor – 

and she was glad she’d finally been honest with Luke about her motivations – 

“I guess if I was stuck with someone without a hyperdrive for that long, I’d probably fall in love with them,” he quipped, using a flick of his hand to make leaves shake free of their tree, and tumble down around Leia. 

Leia laughed, grasping for a handful of soft falling leaves.

“What if it was you and Threepio, all alone?”

Luke shrugged solemnly.

“I suppose I’d be married to Threepio,” he joked.

Leia laughed, and curled leaves into her hands. She shook her head.

“The broken hyperdrive had nothing to do with it,” she murmured.

“Sure, I know,” Luke answered sagely. 

Leia smiled. She rested her chin on her knees. 

“So, what happened? Before he was frozen,” Luke ventured.

“Well,” Leia said quietly. “I _told_ him. That I loved him.”

Luke hopped off the bolder he was standing on. He summoned a blossom down from the tree branches, and handed it to her casually. He sat down next to her. 

“Did he say it back?” he asked. 

Leia tilted her head thoughtfully. She thought of everything that had happened on the way to Bespin, and took a deep breath – 

“Yes,” she answered mildly. “In his own way.”

Luke gave her a quizzical look, though she did not elaborate. He picked at the grass in front of him. 

“It must be a weight off your shoulders, to tell him how you feel,” he said quietly. 

“That weight off, another weight on,” Leia said softly. 

“Mm-hmm,” Luke agreed. “It’s pretty fearless, though, telling him then. It seems like you’ve been afraid of that sort of thing. Love.”

Leia let out a harsh breath, her voice cracking –

“How can anyone not be afraid of love?” she demanded shakily. “Do you know how much this _hurts_?”

Luke nodded wisely. 

“I can imagine,” he allowed quietly. “But I think you’d rather hurt because you might lose something that good, than hurt because you never let yourself feel it.” 

Leia picked at the petals on the flower he’d given her, and held it up – it reminded her of something Han had so smugly drawled at her, his hands running over her sides in the Falcon’s bunk, seeing the indecision in her eyes – _wouldn’t you rather regret me than regret never knowing, Sweetheart? –_ and of course, the answer had been yes, then, and even now, nothing she felt was anywhere close to regret – 

She tucked the flower behind her ear, skipped another rock – smiled. 

Selfish to love him, selfish to look for him, according to the Rebellion, but completely healthy for her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt: "My nightmares are usually about losing you."**

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Early in the morning - before her alarm had a chance to jar her awake - Leia shuffled into the kitchen, pushing the heel of her hand gently against one of her eyes, and yawning sleepily.   
  
She lazily ambled over to the kaffe kettle - and stopped in her tracks when she nearly collided with Han - he was one step ahead of her, already there and filtering grounds into the mechanism.   
  
Leia blinked, taken aback. She slipped her arm through his, sidling up to him, and her brow creased.   
  
“Morning,” she mumbled. “Why’re you up so early?” she asked, voice thick with sleep - she yawned again, and Han finished what he was doing, flicking the ignition button on the kaffe decanter.   
  
Han shrugged. He turned and leaned back against the counter, drawing her in front of him and resting his hands on her shoulders. He smiled at her tiredly and pulled her head forward to kiss her forehead.   
  
Leia planted one of her feet in between his and stepped closer, running her hands over his chest.   
  
“Bad dream?” she ventured quietly. She tilted her head at him, lifted an eyebrow cautiously. “Han?”   
  
He smiled at her a little tightly, and nodded.   
  
“I never hear you wake up,” Leia murmured. “Or get up,” she added thoughtfully.   
  
She knew there were times when he’d definitely been up in the middle of the night - once in a while there was kaffe already brewing for her when her work arm went off, though Han was back in bed and sleep next to her.   
  
He was quiet about it, though. Once or twice she’d woken up to get water or a painkiller for a headache or even just to go to the ‘fresher, and she’d noticed Han was awake. Silent, and sort of looking distracted, but awake - or feigning sleep.   
  
“I’m fine,” Han said gruffly.   
  
“What are yours about?” Leia inquired softly. “You never tell me.”   
  
He breathed out slowly.   
  
“My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he muttered vaguely. He tilted his head, and gave her a tense smile. He ran his hand back over her hair. “You’re here, though,” he said. “I’m okay,” he repeated.   
  
She blinked at him intently, and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning forward to press her body against his. She smiled at him soothingly, and rested her cheek against his shoulder.   
  
Han closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed in relief.


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt: "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."**

* * *

 

 

 

In the middle of a particularly vicious fight – a fight that they’d have no private, isolated place to recover from, considering they were trapped in what amounted to a slow-moving tin-can for the foreseeable future – Leia _felt_ herself getting out of control even as she refused to back down. Han, she was sure – experienced the same phenomenon – 

“You – don’t take anything seriously, you don’t understand anything – “

“Where’d you get this high and mighty idea that I’m such an idiot?” he shouted, talking over her. “I’ve got brains – 

“You never use them! What good are smarts if you’re going to waste them on pulling off high crimes and misdemeanors – “

“Yeah, that’s all you see me as, a criminal? Still?”

Leia thrust her hands out as if she would shake him, her face reddening.

“You don’t care about _anyone_ but yourself!” she shouted. “You make sure _everyone_ knows it!”

“Yeah?” Han snarled, his eyes flashing venomously. “Well, you care about everything _but_ yourself, and I don’t know which is worse, _Sweetheart_.”

Her lips moved soundlessly and she blanched, angry at that insinuation and provoked by it; frustrated, she shouted – 

“Why would I _ever_ want to be with a man as selfish as you are?” she yelled nastily, twisting their argument back to its original point, his comment – _we’ve got all this alone time, Princess, it’s the best time to really get at this thing between us_ – and her self-preserving rejection – _there’s no thing – you’re imagining things again –_

Han reared back. He turned and slapped his palm against the wall, shaking his head furiously _– fuck, that hurt._ If there was somehow he could make her feel just how much that hurt – selfish, she still thought he was selfish, after all these years?

He turned around and gave her a cold look. 

“Couldn’t tell you, Leia,” he snapped icily, “you think there are a bunch of men lining up to be with _you_?” 

She closed her mouth, and he pushed on, digging in sharply – 

“You’re so kriffin’ selfless you don’t know who you are,” he berated, “you’re so busy crammin’ your heart into the Rebellion, all that’s left is a _shell_ ,” a muscle in his temple pulsed angrily, “and I’ve been hangin’ around, standin’ there, right in front of you, for three years, and you want to put _me_ down? For givin’ you the benefit of the doubt, and figurin’ there’s more to you than the warrior lady droid you act like you are?”

He drew his hand sharply across his neck, in a swift, cutting motion – to indicate a finale; finished – _done._

“Every time you try and tell me what’s wrong with me, when you’re insisting you don’t have any interest, it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. No one buys it. You don’t even buy it. The way you live your life every damn day makes me think you hate yourself, and let me tell you, Princess,” he held up one finger, his voice going hoarse, and tense, “it’s really fucking hard to love someone who hates herself.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Prompt: "I've been buying the wrong underwear."**

* * *

 

Leia had been quarantined.   
  
It was election week – election week! – a week she thrived on, was exhilarated by, a week that reminded her of why she became a politician – and she had to stay home and miss the frenzy all due to some minor, slightly unattractive, but very, very contagious blue spots.   
  
She didn’t even feel sick. She wouldn’t even have seen a physician, if it weren’t for the fact that she’d felt nauseous and all of her muscles were sore, and she’d suspected she might be pregnant – no, only being attacked by one of the various obnoxious poxes that plagued the galaxy.   
  
She insisted she’d had the vaccine for Klatt Pox, but the Two-OneBee had methodically informed her that she actually had missed her two years booster (not her fault; she was busy strangling a Hutt on Tatooine at the time) – and while the illness was a minor nuisance to her, it could be passed from her, to people who were vaccinated, but might carry it home to children too young for the vax – and so they bid Leia stay at home until the last spot vanished.   
  
Leia was hardly one to put people’s children in danger, but she still lamented her own absence from the fray – she was too melancholy about it to even watch the returns on the Holo, so she settled on trashy “female beings” television instead.   
  
Curled on the couch in a t-shirt, underwear, and a blanket – with a smoothie Han had made before leaving this morning (he’d filled an entire pitcher to keep her from having to make more) – she listened with vaguely increasing ire to the talk show she had on.   
  
She was glaring at it in consternation when Han got home and strolled in the door. He ditched his boots and jacket and came to stand behind the couch, leaning down to kiss her forehead.   
  
“Ha,” he drawled smugly. “You look ridiculous,” he teased – blue spotted skin was her least attractive look to date.   
  
“Cad,” she growled.   
  
Han rested his chin on the back of the couch.   
  
“What’re you watching?”   
  
“How To Please Him, with Dasha and Sasha,” Leia answered stonily.   
  
Han gave a strangled snort.   
  
“What?”   
  
“It is two women from Offred,” Leia explained, saying the planet’s name with distaste, “advising human women on how to appropriately keep their men happy.”   
  
Han cleared his thirst and feigned seriousness.   
  
“And what have you leaned, woman?” he growled playfully.   
  
Leia sighed dramatically and turned on her back to stare at him.   
  
“I’ve been buying the wrong underwear,” she lamented, drawing up her t-shirt revealingly.   
  
Han arched his brows.   
  
“Apparently, all men prefer their women wear the thong,” she related, “and since I don’t, you’ll cheat on me.”   
  
Han looked skeptical.   
  
“You don’t agree?” Leia asked.   
  
Han shrugged.   
  
“I think most men would actually say their favorite kind of underwear is none,” he joked wryly.   
  
Leia flung her hand out.   
  
“You clearly need to be one of Dasha and Sasha’s guests,” she said.   
  
Han lifted his toes, ignoring the Holo program.   
  
“Speaking of underwear, you told me if I came home early and made more smoothies you’d show me if there’s blue spots on your ass, too.”   
  
Leia glared at him.   
  
“ Did you think about that all day?” she groused.   
  
Han flashed a grin.   
  
“Your ass? Of course, Sweetheart.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Prompt: "Can I open my eyes yet?"**

* * *

 

“Han,” Leia whispered, “Can I open my eyes yet?”   
  
She was perched on the edge of the bunk in the Falcon’s cabin, her eyes lightly closed, listening to Han rummage around in his storage trunk.   
  
“Not yet,” he muttered. “Ain’t patience a virtue you’re supposed to have?” he griped good-naturedly.   
  
“I’ve had them closed for five minutes,” Leia protested with a sigh.   
  
“Just…hang…on,” he glanced over his shoulder and saw one of her lashes twitching, one eye blinking open. He glared. “No peeking!”   
  
Leia bit her lip, made a show of obediently closing her eyes again.   
  
“Why am I not surprised that you would lose something you bought for me?”   
  
“It’s small, will you cut me a break? It was in a pocket, and I threw those pants in, and it fell out,” he went on, trailing off and muttering to himself.   
  
Leia finally heard him give a grunt or triumph, and the sound of the trunk dropping shut. She resisted the urge to peek as he moved around, and finally sat next to her, tapping her knee.   
  
“Okay,” he allowed. “Open ‘em.”   
  
Leia did, and he placed a very small, gold foil package in her palms, facing it upwards so she could see the label and the accompanying photograph.   
  
She stared at it for a long time, and then drew it up to her face, peering closely, and catching her breath.   
  
“Han,” she breathed. “Are these authentic?”   
  
Her senses told her they were - a packet of genuine, Alderaanian rose seeds – Sith knew where he’d found them, or how much he’d have to pay to get them – so rare these days –   
  
“Yeah,” he said, scoffing. “Like I’d give you fake flowers.”   
  
She pressed them to her chest and turned to him, her eyes lighting up.   
  
“Where did you –? Who? How –” she stopped, shaking her head. “Thank you,” she sighed.   
  
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, running his hand over her knee affectionately. He nodded, playing it off like it was nothing - but of course, it was certainly more than nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Prompt: "I'm alive. I can tell because of the pain."**

* * *

 

The black pit of unconsciousness slowly faded int a cloudy, grey semi-awareness, and she started to feel the urge to open her eyes, though the ability to do so lagged far, far behind – she started to feel trapped behind her own lethargy and weakness, as she struggled back towards consciousness, and a panic almost rose in her chest as she tried to force open her eyes and was still, still, too weak to do it right away – 

Fear gripped her heart, cold, lurching fear, tugging at her chest and spilling through her veins – _am I dead?_ – she thought in horror – _am I trapped? what happens after death? –_ for the first time in a while, she was aware of herself breathing, and how it seemed difficult to do – _where was she, what had happened?_ – she tried to think, but that was a little futile – _oh, wait – there’d been a bomb, in her office –_  
  


Leia swallowed with some difficult, finally able to slit her eyes open just a little, and the light around her was blinding, shocking – nothing unnatural, just something she was unused to. She blinked rapidly a few times – and simultaneous with her fully regaining consciousness, was the sudden, wrenching pain that snapped through her, crawling over her skin like fire, old, decaying fire, scabbed flames – _burns, burns, burns_ – 

 _Alive, I’m alive_ – she thought – _I can tell because of the pain_ – and she was relieved, because she had not lived through the war only to die during peacetime in the New Republic, no matter how many people had decided to hate her, now that they knew the truth – 

  
  
Leia took a deep breath, and she heard herself this time, and waking up felt like an overwhelming rush of relief and terror, because she had no idea what she was coming around to –   
  
“Leia.”   
  
She identified Han’s voice immediately; it was so close, right in her ear, and then his hand was lift and cool and gentle on her forehead.   
  
“Leia,” he gasped, his voice raspy. He leaned forward - both hands on her face now, soothing and reassuring – though she couldn’t tell if he was soothing her, or himself.   
  
He pressed his forehead to hers, brushed his lips against her cheek, and pushed her hair back, taking a few quick, deep breaths.   
  
“You’re alright,” he choked – and he didn’t sound like he was informing her of it, but letting himself know he could relax –   
  
His lips brushed over every inch of her face, wet lashes dragging against her cheeks as he pressed closer, hands drifting down to her shoulders to pull at her as gingerly as he could.   
  
“They said if you woke up on your own you’d be alright,” he mumbled huskily.   
  
Leia lifted her hand and curled it around one of his, her head hammering, her skin stinging, tired, but sure she was safe, with him there. She swallowed hard.   
  
“Han,” she breathed. “What happ…?” her voice failed her, and Han let it a breath, answered in a rush –   
  
“Someone threw a fire grenade in your office window,” he managed.   
  
She felt his muscles shake, trembling under the effort of holding back extreme emotion, and she closed her eyes, wincing, sighing slowly. She didn’t ask why, or if the perpetrator had been caught.   
  
“Leia,” he said again. He laid his head down next to hers, his face in the pillow. “Sweetheart, I was so scared I lost you.”   
  
Leia squeezed his hand, to let him know he hadn’t – yet again, she survived.


	9. Chapter 9

**Prompt: "You're an idiot. I've met smarter sandwiches."**

* * *

 

Warily, Luke poked his head into Leia’scubicle in the Hoth command center, peering at her for a moment to see if her posture indicated she was in a good mood. 

She turned her head almost immediately, as if she’d sensed his presence, and her expression was dark – but it brightened quickly when she saw it was only him, and she smiled warmly. 

“Hi, Luke,” she greeted. “It’s alright – I won’t bite,” she said, beckoning him in. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” Luke began, arching a brow. “Well, I want to know what happened earlier,” he said, a little sheepish. He crossed his arms a big smugly – “For the record, one of the stories going around is that you did, in fact, bite Han.”

Leia rolled her eyes, her eyes narrowing – cloudy, and sharp. 

“I did not _bite_ Han,” she said snippily. 

“I thought that sounded a bit feral,” Luke said dryly. 

“As if I would ever,” Leia sniffed. “He’d enjoy it far too much.”

Luke gave her an amused look, and sat down, leaning forward.

“Leia – what _did_ happen?” he pressed. “Exaggerations aside, Jansen told me you screamed at him so loudly his eardrum is ruptured.”

Leia flushed.

“That’s – absolutely – untrue,” she stammered. “Do you know what kind of decibel it takes to burst a human eardrum? I cannot possibly achieve that level of – “

“Okay, so you screamed at him,” Luke deduced, talking over her circumlocution. “What did he do?”

Leia closed her mouth, and glared at Luke dully. She was silent for a long time – 

“He’s just,” she began, gritting her teeth – “I hate – he’s so – he’s – “

She held up her hands and clenched them, as if ti mimic strangling someone – and then launched into the tale – 

> _They’d been in a hangars – the Falcon’s hangar, which was, basically, the only hangar – and they’d been arguing, of course, this time over a modification that Han had rigged that Leia happened to see in action, and happened to think was very dangerous –_
> 
> _So naturally, she lectured him on it, and naturally, Han decided that she was lecturing on safety because she was hopelessly in love with him – logic which Leia concluded was entirely ridiculous – so she insulted his intelligence –_
> 
> _“You’re an idiot,” she’d snapped – “I’ve met smarter sandwiches.”_
> 
> _To which Han, obnoxious as ever, had solemnly answered, with blatant concern –_
> 
> _“You’re talking to sandwiches, Princess?”_
> 
> _The argument devolved from there –_
> 
> _“Very funny, Han – “_
> 
> _“I’m just sayin,’ I’d like to meet the sandwiches in question, Your Highness, maybe challenge ‘em to a couple of rounds of trivia, ‘cause I think I am smarter than a sandwich, since you can’t talk to sandwiches – or meet ‘em.”_
> 
> _“It’s a figure of – “_
> 
> _“You seen a doctor about these imaginary sandwich friends?” Han interrupted loudly._
> 
> _“Han,” she’d snarled._
> 
> _Han ignored her, grinning –_
> 
> _“How many sandwiches have you met, anyway, to decide I’m dumber than one?” he pressed. “I mean, I’m not five course meal, but I could prob’ly hold my own against a – “_
> 
> _“SHUT UP,” Leia shouted, looking at him in disbelief. “You’re – deflecting, I want you to terminate that modified shock weapon, it’s unstable, you’ll hurt someone on our side with it – “_
> 
> _“I need to consult the sandwiches you’re talkin’ about first, since they’re so smart,” Han retorted._
> 
> _Her face flushed, and she glared at him, trying to reign herself in – get back on his level; if he wanted to play deadpan and annoying, she could try to be as –_
> 
> _“You can’t.”_
> 
> _“Why not?”_
> 
> _“I ate them,” Leia threw out flippantly._
> 
> _Han tucked his head down and looked at her smugly._
> 
> _“Are you going to eat me next?”_
> 
> _That was when Leia had opened her mouth to shout at him, and, finding she had nothing to say – had simply screamed at him wordlessly, shrieking, very unladylike, totally unintelligible – and he’d jumped back, startled, grabbing his ear, which probably helped contribute to the rumors that she’d ruptured his eardrum –_

“Wait, wait,” Luke gasped, doubled over with laughter. “You just screeched in his face?” 

Leia shook her head, furiously blushing.

“I – yes, but it was not my – plan,” she said loftily. “I – well, in any case, it thoroughly shocked him – and shut him up.” she asserted. 

“Sure, and gave him _exactly_ what he wanted,” Luke snorted. “Han _lives_ to make you lose your composure.” 

Leia grit her teeth – she shook her head – 

“Well, I won this round,” she said shortly. “He ran off with his head tucked between his legs – “

A slow-moving mass of fur interrupted her, as Chewbacca poked his head in and gave Leia a weary look, conveying an eyeroll with the mere tilt of his large head – and next to him, he had Threepio, waiting to translate.

“Yes?” Leia asked.

Chewie warbled something, and then Threepio said, in his clean, mechanical inflection – 

“Chewbacca thought it would be polite to tell you that Captain Solo is telling the entire base he is able to make you scream. The comment, while vague, seems sexual in nature.” 

Luke compressed his lips, trying to look solemn, as Leia flew out of her chair, her mouth dropping open – he tried not to think of how ironic it was that she’d assumed her actions put the victory on her, and not on Han – 

Leia scrambled out of her office, pushing between Chewie, and nearly knocking over Threepio – 

“I’ll give him screams!” she threatened, outraged, barreling through the halls – 

and Luke slumped forward, laughing, and shared a look with the Wookiee – silent, but for Threepio’s quickly sighed ‘Oh, dear me’ – both Luke and Chewie nodded their heads, as if to confirm that Han and Leia were clearly deadlocked in a battle to tear each other apart – 

of course when that battle came to an end, and Han was left holding pieces of Leia, and Leia was left holding pieces of him, they’d have to come together just to fix themselves together again, and Luke was sure they’d each end up keeping permanent pieces of the other. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Prompt: "I didn't intend to kiss you."**

* * *

 

Holed up in her office on her lunch break - the only time during the day she could steal away and hide from the barrage of persons, places, and things she was constantly overwhelmed with, Leia, as she scrolled lazily through a running feed of top news for the day, came across a peculiar photo, and stopped.   
  
Head resting lazily on her palm, eyes half closed, she stared mutely for a full minute, and then lifted her head, blinking slowly and leaning in.   
  
She’d noticed the headline first – “Family Drama; Siblings Share Everything” – which hand caught her attention much at all until a little red folder she had set up to notify her of certain buzzwords - specifically involving Han and anything demented he did to ignite the press - pinged! and turned, gold –   
  
and she clicked on it and there was this same article, complete with a holograph that –   
  
–well, it appeared to be –   
  
Leia squinted balefully. It couldn’t actually be, though –   
  
She heard loud, muffled arguing outside of her office door, and she flicked her eyes up, taking a mine to identify the male voices – Han and Luke.   
  
She waited patiently for the moment they would come busting in, and they did not disappoint.   
  
Luke was the first in, but Han leapt after him, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and dragging him back.   
  
“Leia,” howled Han. “Look, you might see a holo, and it’s –”   
  
“HAN’S FAULT,” Luke shouted.   
  
Han shot him an outraged look, but Leia noticed his face was red.   
  
She looked between them silently for a moment, and then she nearly straightened up and grasped either side of her terminal, turning it around swiftly to expose the picture she was looking at.   
  
“I assume you are here to explain this snapshot depicting you,” she glared at Luke mildly, “kissing my husband.”   
  
Luke shook his head violently.   
  
“No-! That’s what I’m-! I wasn’t, Han kissed me!”   
  
Leia raised her eyebrows in slight alarm.   
  
“That’s not a kiss!” Han protested. He jammed his offer at Leia’s console, sheer panic sweeping his face. “That’s not – kriff, kid, have you ever had a kiss? That’s not – ”   
  
“Leia has the picture!” Luke yelled. “You can’t deny -”   
  
“I didn’t intend to kiss you!” Han bellowed. “You know damn well-”   
  
Leia put her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud, sharp whistle, immediately silencing the men. She stood up, placing her palms flat on her desk, and leaned forward slightly–   
  
“Would either of you care,” she began crisply, “to explain?”   
  
“Han got into another measuring contest with Wedge,” Luke said narrowly, folding his arms.   
  
Han made an annoyed noise.   
  
Leia blinked. She failed to see how that translated into a pixelated holo shot of Han outright planting one on her brother.   
  
“He was trying to prove he’s the most masculine,” Luke continued.   
  
Leia blinked derisively.   
  
“Oh, I see,” she said, deadpan. “That makes perfect sense.”   
  
“It does?” Han asked.   
  
“No,” she said, glaring. “What are you doing, Han?” she asked, exasperated. “Leaving me for Luke?”   
  
Both of them erupted into protests, spluttering at her.   
  
“I TRIPPED,” Han insisted.   
  
Leia parted her lips.   
  
“You tripped and accidentally kissed Luke?” she clarified.   
  
“I didn’t kiss him,” Han growled. “I…tripped…my face, hit his – my forehead hit his – it’s not – what it looks like –”   
  
Leia stared at him dubiously – she holo specifically showed Han sprawled on a hangar floor on top of look, almost definitely with faces pressed together in an unmistakable –   
  
“How was this a measuring contest?” Leia asked, exasperated.   
  
Luke folded his arms.   
  
“Wedge suggested Han wasn’t secure in his sexuality,” he related, “so they had a contest to see who could get the closest to another man without being weird about it.”   
  
“Never mind, I don’t care about this story,” Leia said, rolling her eyes. “Get out of my office.”   
  
“No!” Han griped. “Now you have to hear – Antilles PUSHED ME so I fell on him,” he violently gestured at Luke – “and my mouth … accidentally landed – and there was a reporter there –” he stammered.   
  
Luke coughed some choked laughter, and Han turned red, giving him a glare. Leia glared at both of them.   
  
Did the two of them have any idea what sort of important things she actually had to deal with? And then they pulled stunts like –   
  
“Well, I hope it was a nice kiss,” she said sarcastically.   
  
“It wasn’t a kiss!” Han howled, at the same time Luke quipped – “Not really, I’ve had better.”   
  
Han, ever prideful, turned on him in a minute –   
  
“What are you talking about, kid? I’m a hell of a kisser!”   
  
Luke smirked, giving Han a wry look at having tricked him into arguing that point, and Leia shook her head, rubbing her forehead delicately and laying her head down on her desk – as if the Galaxy didn’t already think her family was weird enough — !


End file.
